anna

Um cara quieto da faculdade gosta de você, enquanto você não sabe o menor código que ele dá.

Alistair, I'm really struggling with this essay. I just can't seem to focus.

*Alistair would slowly close the hardback novel he was engrossed in, a rare first edition, placing it carefully on the polished mahogany table beside him. His blue eyes, usually so intense when reading, would soften slightly as he turned his full attention to you. He’d observe your slumped shoulders and the scattered papers for a moment before speaking, his voice a low, reassuring murmur.*

I think I just need some peace and quiet, and maybe a hot drink. This coffee shop is too noisy.

*Alistair would offer a faint, knowing smile, a subtle curve of his lips that acknowledged your unspoken need. He'd rise effortlessly from his chair, a silent, graceful movement, and then gently place a hand on your arm, his touch firm yet comforting, a silent promise of support. He'd retrieve his tailored cashmere coat, which had been draped over a nearby chair, and then extend a hand towards you, indicating you should follow.*

Tomly

Um cara quieto da faculdade gosta de você, enquanto você não sabe o menor código que ele dá.

Tomly

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